Answer:
who do you think you know but sometimes you don't
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
Green arrows grow out of my sides. I go from yellow to white. My babies fly in the wind. What am I?
He's dead with a metal bar across his back. When a woman sees him, she is very pleased. This was all perfectly legal. What's going on?
Thousands of these come together to make a digital image. What is it?
Why is the letter B always cool?